


The Roads Untraveled

by jynx (orphan_account)



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Non-Linear Narrative, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, i am not shitting you, linane's fault, time traveling dwarves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-17
Updated: 2015-09-25
Packaged: 2018-03-30 23:37:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3956194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/jynx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At the time of their deaths Fili and Kili are given a choice and a chance to save their line.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, this is just the first chapter. Kind of a... interest gauge? I'm going to be working on this and it will be a post here and a post on tumblr (http://durinsuntraveledroads.tumblr.com/) every other Friday. Posting begins July 31st!
> 
> Also: this is all Linane's fault. Blame/Praise be to her. XD

Fili came to curled around Kili in the dark, surrounded by stone and gems, dressed in their leathers and furs. Kili was still asleep against him, breathing steadily, hands curled in the collar of Fili’s coat. Fili looked around, uncertain of where they were, but he could smell smoke and metal and the stone under them was living.

“You are awake,” a man said from behind Fili. He twisted around to see but all he could make out was the warm glow of fire. “Your brother will wake shortly."

Fili stopped straining himself and settled back down against the stone and Kili to wait for him to wake. He stroked his brother’s hair as he thought back. He remembered Erebor, the gold, Thorin’s goldsickness… The battle.

He started, almost jumping to his feet, but the weight of Kili stopped him. 

“Shh,” the man said. The pounding of a hammer on an anvil was soothing and Fili settled back down. “All will be explained."

Kili started to stir, pressing his face against Fili’s neck and making that grumble-moan that singled his waking. Fili turned his face and kissing the crown of Kili’s head. There was that surge of affection Fili always felt for his brother when he woke and he could not resist pulling Kili in closer. There was a happy murmur and Kili opened his eyes.

“There we are,” the man said. The sound of metal being pounded did not cease. “Both of you awake."

Kili started, pulling away from Fili, his hands going to where he kept a pair of throwing daggers. Fili watched, almost bemused, and waited. If the mysterious man had meant them any harm than it would have already been done.

“Come closer, my children,” the man said.

Fili stood and took Kili’s hand, taking the daggers and sheathing them for his brother, smiling. He leaned in, kissing Kili’s cheek, and lead him past all the stone and piles of gems. Kili ignored the piles, just as much as Fili did, the gold not holding any interest for them.

There was a pleased sounding rumble and Fili and Kili came face to face with a very tall dwarf. He had a long black beard shot through with silver and beaded and braided. He had kind eyes under bushy eyebrows set in a weathered face. He wore simple clothes, covered by a leather apron, and he set down his hammer.

“I am Mahal,” the dwarf said. “You have passed many of my tests. I have a reward for you, and a task."

“A task?” Fili asked. Somehow knowing he was in the presence of his creator did not faze him—neither to cow him, or shock him, or cause him to tremble in fear. Instead he felt at peace, warm and loved, unlike anything he had felt since he was a young child.

“A reward and a task?” Kili asked. “That seems so odd."

“It is, in a way, odd,” Mahal agreed. He reached out for a length of metal chain. “The two of you are the purest of my creations. It has been quite some time since I have had such selfless children. You do not lust for gold nor are you corrupted by greed and resentment. You care only for family and for protecting them."

Fili looked at Kili who looked at Fili. 

“Would you like a chance to save your family?” Mahal asked. “It would not be easy."

“To…save them?” Kili asked.

“To prevent the dragon and the sickness,” Mahal said. “To travel the ages and prevent the ills that plague your line."

“But…” Kili said.

“We are dead, aren’t we?” Fili said. “We fell in battle. These are your halls."

“You can change that,” Mahal said. He finished stringing the two necklaces he had made and walked over to them. “If you accept than you can change the outcome. You can save your line and live in Erebor with your kin."

“You seem so sure that we will say yes,” Kili said. “But why should we?"

Fili smiled. That was Kili, a blunt weapon hitting where FIli could not strike. Mahal was smiling at them and reached out, laying his warm hands on both of their heads.

“My children, selfless and loving, of course you will say yes,” he said. “You want only the good in the world and to be with your kin. You play music and craft the stone and metal of your mountains. You spread only cheer, not malice. My giving you the chance to change the course of time and your acceptance was never in doubt."

Fili reached out for Kili’s hand. Mahal had a point. How could they refuse?

The dwarf approached them, holding out two pendants threaded through with mithril chain. “Wear these, my children,” he said.

Kili reached for them first with Fili only a moment behind him. The pendants were simple, nothing eye-catching,except for the gem laid in the middle of the simple worked iron. 

“Is that…?” Fili asked, holding it up to look more closely.

Kili looked at Mahal and then at the pendants before them. “It is, isn’t it? The Arkenstone."

“Only a little of it,” Mahal said. “That stone, the heart of your mountain, was once a tear shed in grief."

Fili and Kili looked up at that.

“Before the world had woken and I had made your kin I was told to destroy you. I could not, though I tried, and I wept. It is only because Ilúvatar accepted you as his adopted children that you were allowed to exist. And still I wept.” Mahal reached into the pocket of his leather apron and pulled two radiant gems out. “I should have found them and dug them free but I had forgotten. And then one was found and all happened as it did."

“Them?” Kili asked. He put the pendant he had taken around Fili’s neck and his brother did the same. 

Mahal nodded. “Scattered through time. Those pendants will let you find them."

“Do you need us to find them?” Fili asked.

Mahal shook his head. “They will not be a problem. Like calls to like and they will keep you on the right path."

“The path that will let us save everyone?” Kili asked. “That’s the path you mean?"

Mahal nodded. “I cannot tell you everything but this will not be an easy task. Once you start you cannot stop until the end is reached."

“Sounds familiar,” Fili said. He could not help the chuckle he let loose or the smile Kili gave him in reply.

“You must look for an old friend,” Mahal advised. “He will tell you more."

Fili and Kili frowned as one, both wanting to question, but Mahal had turned away. He was back at his anvil and had raised his hammer. 

“I have said all I can,” Mahal said. “The rest is up to you.” 

The hammer came down on the anvil and that was all they remembered until they woke next.


	2. "Hello, Mister Baggins," he said. "Got any ale?"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And so it begins...

Fili stared, dumbstruck, as the darkness of Mahal's forge snapped into the sunny green field of...some other place. Fili looked around, hands going down to his sides to rest on the hilts of his double swords, wary. He could see people out in the distance, short and... Oh.

Fili searched for a large hill and a green door and, yep. There it was. Just as he remembered it. He started forward, smiling at the scent of fresh grass and sunshine. Kili had always teased him when he said sunshine had a smell, but it did, to him at least. He could close his eyes and smell the sunshine even deep in the hall of Ered Luin.

He glanced to his right side as he stood at the base of the hill when Bilbo lived, ready to make a quid about the sun’s smell, and frowned when he couldn’t see Kili. In fact, he hadn’t seen his brother since he’d been thrust into the light. Maybe he was already with Bilbo? Fili made his way up the path to the door and knocked. A few minutes later it opened and a hobbit with a mop of curly brown hair and eyes bluer than any sapphire Fili had ever seen peered up at him. Fili tipped his head to the side with a frown. This wasn't Bilbo...

"May I help you?" the hobbit asked slowly. He had a curious look about him, not terribly unlike the Bilbo of old.

Fili shook himself out of his thoughts and dipped into a quick bow. "Fili, at your service," he said. "If I'm not mistaken, a Bilbo Baggins lives here?"

The hobbit looked at him and stepped aside to let Fili in. He went through taking Fili's coat--which he politely refused--and offering tea--also politely declined--until he led Fili into a room scattered with paper, books, ink, and a desk. At the desk an older hobbit sat and Fili realized with a sense of shock that it was Bilbo.

"Uncle, you have a visitor," the younger hobbit said.

Bilbo had looked up, his lined eyes widening in his tanned and weathered face, before standing so fast the chair fell backward. He scrambled through the papers and books on the floor to collide into Fili. Fili relaxed into Bilbo's arms and hugged him tight.

"My boy," Bilbo whispered, holding Fili close. "My dear, dear boy."

Fili nuzzled into Bilbo's curls, smiling to himself. "Hello, Mister Baggins," he said. "Got any ale?"

=

A little later, after Bilbo had shooed his nephew Frodo off and put a half-pint in front of Fili, they sat across from each other at the tiny kitchen table.

"Have you seen Kili?" Fili asked first. He was slowly tearing the loaf of bread with honey butter smear over the slices to pieces. He ate the crust first and then the still warm centers. Bilbo had set cheese and cured meats on the table as well but Fili wasn’t terribly interested in them.

Bilbo shook his head, hands on his knees under the table. "I haven't seen you or your brother since they laid all of you to rest in Erebor."

Fili couldn't help a frown. He remembered dying, he remembered Mahal, but he also remembered Kili. It was possible the two of them had been parted but he couldn't understand why Mahal would do that. Hadn't he saved them, kept them both together, to... Well, no, actually. The Maker hadn't said he would keep them together, had he?

“Do you know why you’re here?” Bilbo asked. The hobbit, who didn’t look nearly as old as he said he was, looked uncomfortable and sad. The grief, as that was what it was, sat heavy on the hobbit’s face, deepening what creases there were into furrows, his eyes sinking further into his face. He looked old and fragile, almost his full age of one hundred and ten, and was such a contrast to the hobbit FIli had known only hours, days previously. “Were you told?"

FIli, shaken from his thoughts, frowned. “Was I told?"

“Aule,” Bilbo said. “Were you told what you have to do?"

Fili hesitated and took out his necklace, showing it to Bilbo. “Kili and I were given these."

“Do you know what they’re supposed to do?” Bilbo asked, not touching the necklace. He looked at it with hunger, such a hungry look that Fili was startled, not used to seeing… Bilbo almost looked like Thorin in that moment.

“How do you know any of this?” Fili asked. “I don’t… You know about The Maker?"

“I know a lot about what’s happened and what will,” Bilbo said. “Radaghast went to see Gandalf after speaking to Yavanna. They came and told me what Aule has…offered, I suppose it the best word."

“About fixing things?” Fili asked. Bilbo nodded. “We were told that we had a chance to prevent Smaug, and many other things, and to save our family.” Fili gave Bilbo a tiny smile. “To save Thorin from the gold sickness, prevent…prevent so many wrongs on all sides."

“You weren’t told how, or any details, were you?” Bilbo looked anxious now, his hands off his knees and he was wringing them together, biting his lip.

Fili touched where the pendant lay over his leather and mail. “I know how,” he said. “Our Maker’s tears will bring us where we need to be."

Bilbo’s head hung. “Fili…"

“What do you know that I don’t?” Fili asked.

“The Arkenstone will bring you where you need to go,” Bilbo said. “That part is right. To get the Arkenstone to actually do it? Well. You have no control."

“I don’t?” Fili asked. That didn’t sound quite right.

“You have no control over where you go and neither does Kili. If you two match up then you do and if you don’t then you don’t.” Bilbo let out a slow breath. “At some places you will both be needed and then you will be in the same place but you won’t always stay that way."

Fili reached for his ale and drained it in three painful gulps. He set it down and rubbed at his suddenly tired eyes. Mahal had saved them, together, only to keep them apart?

“There’s more,” Bilbo said. “There’s a clock on your time, some unpredictable time, that will keep you in one place. If that time expires and you haven’t fixed what Aule wants you to fix then you have to go back and start from the beginning."

“This can’t be happening,” Fili whispered.

“Always beware offers that seem too good to be true,” Bilbo said. He stood and bustled about the kitchen, full of anxious energy, as he fetched more food and ale for Fili. “There’s more. You can’t take anything with you from one time to another. If you happen to accidentally harm your own future or existence than you will have a very limited time in which to fix it."

“Anything else?” FIli asked as he accepted the full mug of ale.

Bilbo sat with cured ham, cutting slices unevenly with shaking hands. “You can’t tell anyone who you are or what you’re actually doing. You’ll have to earn their trust in your own way. If you cross the future and into the path of people you know, well. I, I’m not sure of that."

Fili took one of the slices ham and slapped it into his shreds of bread. He stuffed it into his mouth and chewed viciously. Moments later he regretted it as it sat heavy in his throat and stomach. “Anything else?"

Bilbo shook his head. “Try to stay safe, my boy. I want you and your brother to get through this in one piece."

“You don’t think we will?” Fili asked.

Bilbo opened his mouth to respond only to begin to fade away. Fili jumped to his feet, feeling the chip of the Arkenstone flare burning hot even through his many layers. He looked about wildly, his beads clacking together as the world tilted and spun and he fell hard against the unfeeling land.


	3. “What is it with you and hobbits? Do you just pick them off a bush or something?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let us all give thanks to thecopperriver over on tumblr for agreeing to be my beta and whacking me over the head to make my writing even better :D

His head swam and he stumbled, eyes slitting against the harsh light of the sun. He didn't know where he was, barely remembered his name, feeling his body being flesh once more was odd. Slowly his mind woke and he remembered who he was and..

Kili found himself in the middle of a city built of white stone and full of men in armor and with tall wings on their helmets. What in Mahal's great name were they wearing? Kili was about to remark on them to the nearest person when he was startled by a shout from above.

"Abandon posts!" came the bellow. "Flee for your lives!"

The men shifted uneasily, unsure of whether to listen to someone who was apparently their commander--a very bad commander--or to stay and fight. Fight what was definitely a question but not one Kili was sure he wanted answered.

And then he heard a voice belonging to Gandalf, his voice unmistakably though Kili could not see him. He scowled. He remembered everything that had happened. He remembered the Quest and Erebor. No good could ever come from that wizard.

There was a jolt, men looking around at each other before falling into formation. Kili, shorter than the men and easily overlooked, was pushed none-too-gently into one of those ridiculously white walls as people leapt to action..

Catapults began to fling stone over the walls only to be returned by the orc army. One such stone took out everyone to Kili’s right and he shuddered at the onslaught of memories. This was not Erebor. This was not his war. He had fought his battles. Why had he been brought here, to this one?

And then the Wraiths and the Fellbeasts came. Kili took a deep breath and wound his way out through the press of screaming soldiers and dead bodies to where Gandalf was with…a hobbit. Kili glanced up at the skies quickly, trying not to roll his eyes, huffing silently in frustration at Mahal before drawing his sword.

The hobbit helped, surprisingly, and when Gandalf—white was a horrible color for him, honestly—turned, he looked gobsmacked.

“What is it with you and hobbits?” Kili asked, toeing one of the dead men. “Do you just pick them off a bush or something?"

“Eh?” the hobbit asked.

“Master Kili,” Gandalf said. He had composed himself quickly, Kili would give him that, and was straightening to his full, unbent height. “How did you…?"

“Someone else wants us alive more than you wanted us dead,” Kili said. He shifted his kit and slid his sword back in it’s sheath. “None of that is important now, is it? You have a war to run and I am too fresh off mine. So, Wizard, where should I go? And where can I get some decent arrows?"

“I, er, I could show you?” the Hobbit said.

Kili nodded, turning his back on Gandalf, lest he say something he might yet live to regret. He wound up nestled happily in a perch with a good amount of arrows and he kept them flying. He imagined each arrow he loose he imagined it thudding into Azog, Bolg, Gandalf, Smaug...

Several times he had to grab his quivers of arrows and scramble to get off crumbling towers, away from falling stones and tumbling bodies, keeping himself in as whole a piece as he could. Who knew what would happen if he died on this journey Mahal had set him on?

As night fell the orcs breached one level, then two, then three. Kili had run out of arrows and given up, slinging his bow over his shoulder and buckling his own quiver over his shoulder before making for somewhere safer.

Not that there were many safe places in Minas Tirith right now.

He stumbled upon Gandalf and the hobbit again, along with more men, all waiting with fearful expressions behind the creaking Fifth Gate. Kili glanced over the edge of the wall and made a face. The Rohirrim were fighting quite a battle out there but there were still orcs and trolls fighting to get through to them. Death was on the other side of that door for many of them, if not all, and the men quaked but held their ground.

Kili couldn’t make up his mind, as he settled next to the hobbit, if the way he went was better than the way these men were going to go or if it was the other way around. Was it better to die on a battlefield, lost in the confusion and only knowing who was at your back, too busy trying to stay alive to fear death? Or was it better to know death was coming and meet it head on, eyes wide open as you leaped into the fray?

“How did this come to pass?” Gandalf asked quietly.

Kili glanced at him and then the hobbit. “You’re not a Baggins, are you?"

The hobbit blinked at him and shook his head. “Related, but no. I’m a Took. Peregrin Took."

Kili wrinkled his nose. “Poor lad, stuck with suck a mouthful."

“Everyone calls me Pippin,” Peregrin offered.

“Much better,” Kili said with an approving nod. “How’d you get tangled up in all of this? Wizard pull you in on some quest of his?"

Pippin shook his head. “My cousin, Frodo—he’s a Baggins—had to take the ring to the elves and it just went from there. We couldn’t let him have all the fun after all.” There was a weak, uncertain smile.

“Ring?” Kili asked, trying not to look at Gandalf.

There was a gusty sigh. “Bilbo picked something up in Goblintown when he met Gollum."

“Gollum?” Kili asked, finally turning to acknowledge the Wizard.

Gandalf had his hand loosely wrapped around the hilt of his sword and looked like a tired old man lost without his staff. “Gollum matters not,” he said. “Bilbo found the ring. Sauron’s Ring."

Kili felt his insides go cold. The missing hobbit after Goblintown. His sudden appearance when neither he nor Fili had heard him running. The ability to be silent and suddenly so good at… “Oh,” he breathed. Did the Ring—for now it deserved the title—have anything to do with that happened at Erebor? Had the taint of evil been Bilbo’s fault? Or...

No.

Bilbo was not the cause of Thorin’s madness, for the dragon, for the battle that had followed. None of that was on Bilbo's shoulders. So much of it was on Gandalf's, though.

“You knew this was going to happen,” Kili accused, sweeping his arm wide to encompass the battlefield below them, the white stone slicked red with blood, the terrified men holding their rattling spears. “That’s why you pushed so hard for the quest. That's why you finally gave him the map and key. You knew Thorin could never resist the temptation to get Erebor back and you fed him everything he wanted to hear!"

Kili didn’t realize he was shouting, or had gotten to his feet, until Pippin shushed at him and yanked him down to sit once more. The hobbit had such wide, startled eyes in his tired face. 

“Why,” Kili demanded. “Why were we so disposable to you?"

Gandalf watched him in that inscrutable way the wizard had while staying silent.

“Why did you want Erebor back so badly?” Kili asked, all the fight going out of him. He slumped to the side of wall where he sat, hand coming up to touch the chip of Arkenstone against his chest. “What could you possibly want from a mine?"

“I never had any interest in the mine,” Gandalf said.

Kili looked at him. “What, then? You wanted Thranduil make friends with Bard and have Smaug dead and get us out of the way for what?” Kili’s heart stuttered as his mind caught up with his mouth. His eyes widened. “The road.”

Gandalf nodded.

Kili squeezed his eyes closed, choking back his rage and despair. “How many of my kin are dying now, Wizard? How many dwarves are you feeding to His allies to keep that road safe?"

“There was no other way." Gandalf did not even look at him, his eyes foxed on the men still flinching from the cracking door.

Because they, of all the creatures of Middle Earth, were the ones who were never wanted in the first place. Even Mahal would have destroyed his creations if he hadn't been stopped. Kili turned away and watched the wooden door shake once more. A flash of green caught his eye and he turned. The Rohan were joined by another army, one glowing green and swarming the enemy, and Kili watched that instead. He wanted Fili.

He wanted Fili, or Da, or even Ma with her overbearing affection. She would have squeezed him until he thought his ribs would crack. Made sure there was no dirt on his nose and fussed over the lack of braids in his hair.

…he would never see his Ma again. Or his Da. Or any of his folk. Not on this quest Mahal had set him and Fili on. Kili stood, putting as much distance between him and Gandalf as he could. He rubbed at his burning eyes and itching nose and took a deep breath. He would see Fili again. He would, in the end, see his Ma and Da. Mahal had said as much and if there was any being Kili would believe it would be their Maker.

=

Kili followed Gandalf and Pippin onto the battlefield. There were bodies everywhere. Some were still in the throes of death and others were just dead. Kili looked around, stomach clenching, throat thick. It hadn't been very long since he had been on a battlefield like this. Not long since he was one of those bodies on the ground.

People screamed around him as warriors found fallen comrades, running and falling to their knees. There were shouts for healers and men sobbing in pain. Kili closed his eyes and stood where he was, head tipped to the sky. This was not Erebor. These bodies were of men and orcs, not dwarves. He would not open his eyes and see Fili or Thorin or any of the rest of the Company.

"Aragorn," Gandalf said, relief in his voice. He clasped arms with a dirt and blood streaked man.

"I won that one," a familiar voice was saying. "I killed ten more than you."

"Did you take down an oliphant?" another familiar voice argued. "I think not."

The first one was a dwarf, low voice tinged with the burr of Khuzdul, and the other high and smooth from Quenya. Kili opened his eyes and looked, reluctant, but willing to satisfy his own mild curiosity.

Elf. Legolas. Kili's eyes narrowed and he yanked free the closest arrow, pulled his bow free, and fired. The arrow slammed into the ground between the elf's legs, startling the others around him. 

"You," Kili said.

"What is it with your cousins?" Legolas asked the dwarf next to him.

"Master Kili," Gandalf said, a frown on his wrinkled face. "This is not the time nor the place."

"Because you're fighting a war?" Kili asked mildly. 

A body collided with Kili's, bringing them both to the ground. Kili yelped, startled, and went for the knife at his side.

"When I saw Fili he said you were alive too," someone said in rapid Khuzdul. "I didn't know if I'd see you but I hoped."

Kili froze and went limp, wiggling about until he saw the bushy red beard and hair. "No way," he whispered. "Gimli?!"

A broad smile broke out.

"Yavanna's tits, you grew a beard," Kili said, stunned. "When did that happen? You saw Fili? How? When?"

"In the sixty years since you've been dead," Gimli said. He climbed off Kili and helped them both to their feet. "Ori grew a spectacular one before he left for Khazad-dûm."

Kili felt his heart lurch. "Khazad-dûm? Did...did they reclaim it?"

Gimli was silent for a beat before nodding. "Aye, they did. For a time. And Fili, ah, I saw him not two weeks past. He bandaged up Aragorn and got him to the Hornburg in time for the siege. He kicked my ass and shouted at me."

"As well he should," Kili said, trying to hide his smile. "You're an infant."

Gimli ignore him, waving away the familiar insult, and continued. "He vanished into the stone not too long after he arrived. Some bright light and he stepped through somehow. How is all this possible? Did...did Mahal send you back?"

Kili ignored his unease over Khazad-dûm and Fili, stamping it down to worry over later, and forced an easy smile. "The others? Did they all make it through the battle?"

Gimli nodded, letting Kili avoid answering his question. "Aye, all came through without any mortal wounds." 

Kili let out a relieved breath. "Good." He stared at his cousin for a moment, hesitating. "Ma? Da?"

Gimli nodded. "Both are in Erebor and well. The Lady Dis is a force to be reckoned with. She lets Dain think he's getting away with everything but it's really her getting her way."

Kili grinned. "Sounds like Ma alright. And Da?"

Gimli stroked his beard. "Works one of the smithies. I don't see much of him but he's always smiling when I do."

"He was never much for words," Kili said. "Fili took after him a lot. Him and Uncle Frerin, or so we're told." The two fell silent until Kili stepped forward and dropped his head to Gimli's armored shoulder, nose wrinkling at the blood splattered about. "I'm so tired of battles and wars."

"Odd thing for a dwarf to say," Aragorn commented, almost gentle the way he said the words. "But you are not that sort of dwarf, are you?"

Kili forced himself to straighten, tweaked Gimli's nose because he could, and turned to look at the filthy man. "I hunt," Kili said. "I do the finer metal working in my uncle's--" He froze. No, he didn't work in Uncle Thorin's forge any more, did he? The forge no longer existed and, even if it did, Thorin did not. "I do detail work."

"Aragorn," Gandalf said, verbally nudging the man.

"We should take the bodies off the battlefield," Aragorn said. He turned and nodded at Legolas. "Would you help find those still living?" Legolas nodded and vanished into the vast carnage.

“Come,” Gimli said, clapping Kili on his shoulder. “Let us feast and smoke, as all victors should do."

Kili let himself be drawn away, ignoring Gandalf’s sharp look, and tried to smile. “Wouldn’t know much about that, I’ve never been a victor before."


	4. "I am your elder and your prince! You will obey me!"

Fili lost his balance and fell down the green hill he had landed on as he tumbled head over tail, trying to keep all his bits in so he would not injure himself accidentally. He especially kept a hand against his neck to keep the pendant on his person. He didn't know what would happen if it was lost or broken. He didn't know where he was this time and he wasn't sure he wanted to know, not after what Bilbo had told him.

When he came to a sprawled stop, his head swimming, he could only see the river he had almost fallen in. He was covered in a mix of sand and mud with tiny cuts covering his face and hands. His head was swimming and he waited for the world to stop moving before slowly looking around.

A horse.

A dead man.

No, not dead--the man was moving. 

The man needed a bath and braids, or at least a brush. His hair looked worse than Kili's after a month of hunting alone in the forest, only without the twigs and leaf bits. He also stank like one of the gas pits in the deep mines. Fili got to his feet and carefully stepped closer, palming two small throwing knives, before using his boot to nudge the man.

There was a moan and more movement.

Oh, charming. There was blood all over the dirty man.

It must have been some sort of big brother trigger in him that made him snap into action. He grabbed the horse's lead and rooted through his saddle bags. He narrowed his eyes in suspicion as he took in the well-stocked healer's kit. Fili huffed out a mighty sigh and grabbed the bandages and strong, clear alcohol. The man was twisting at the waist--legs still splayed on the rocky ground and him trying to turn onto his side--groaning, and the horse went to nuzzle him.

Mahal's balls.

Fili pushed his way past the horse and set a foot on the man's hurt shoulder, pushing him flat. "Stay still, man. You're bleeding everywhere."

"The wargs..."

Fili wrinkled his nose but ignored the man as he rambled. There was definitely Elvish coming out of that mouth. Fili cleaned and patched the man up, helping him to finally sit up correctly and taking off his shirt so Fili could wrap the wound. 

"Who are you?" the man asked.

"Who are you?" Fili countered. He didn't know where he was or when he was but he knew better than to give his name freely. Not now.

"Aragorn," the man said. "Or Strider, if you prefer."

"Ranger?" Fili asked, curious. "Never met one of your kind before."

"Met plenty of yours," the ma--Aragorn said with a wry smile. He was pulling his shirt back on, wincing at the movement. "I travel with one as well: Gimli, son of Gloin."

Fili blinked. Well, damn. Guess that explained part of why he was here. He hadn't seen his little cousin since the terror threw an entirely too public fit about not being included in the Quest. "Really," Fili said with a twist of his lips. "Tell me, how did you come to meet him?"

=

When he, Aragorn, and the horse arrived at Helm's deep Fili wanted nothing more than to stomp his way up to the fool and bang him between the ears. Was he so determined to be on a Quest and get himself slaughtered? The fool couldn't even fight properly!

The first they met after the crowd of other men was an elf. The elf. Fili scowled, even more unhappy.

"You," Fili said, spitting at Legolas' feet. "Damned elf."

Legolas, having handed over a necklace to Aragorn that Fili recognized as Kili's work, turned to him. "Dwarf," he said. "I remember you."

"You almost put an arrow through me," Fili said, crossing his arms.

"You're the one with all those blades," Legolas said, a tiny smile flitting across his lips. "My men still have no idea how you hid as many as you did."

"They didn't find everything," Fili said.

"I don't doubt," the elf said with a quirked brow and lips.

Fili and Legolas eyed each other for a moment.

"Apparently Gimli is his cousin," Aragorn said, having fixed the necklace about his neck. It looked odd, something so delicate and shiny against someone so swarthy and dirty.

Legolas still looked far too amused for Fili's taste. "Really?"

"Where is the little terror?" Fili asked, looking up.

"Terror?" Legolas asked, looking actually animated for an elf. Scary. He looked at Aragorn. "Terror?"

Aragorn nodded, his own grin in the territory of amusement and smugness. Fili barely refrained from rolling his eyes. See, this was why he needed Kili. His little brother could be the one demanding things and being a pest while Fili looked regal and stately.

"He was exploring the caves last I looked," Legolas said.

Fili perked up at that. Caves? What kind of caves could Rohan have? What he knew of the land had it as plains--flat in most areas but full of cliffs and some rolling hills. He didn't hear much of rocks here. Then again, there was that very large wall of rock wrapped around them. It would almost make sense to have caves...

Fili, ignoring the man and elf, made his way to the inside of the Keep and then down. And down. And down some more. And then, oh!

The caves were beautiful, glittering like crystals and dripping from the ceiling, the rocks a contrasting pale and dark. They seemed almost lit from the inside but they reflected the light from the torches the men had set along the walls. It was like every bit of rock in the caves were made into tiny mirrors, reflecting all the light, and it was gorgeous.

Fili wandered further in, barely resisting the urge to twirl about in glee, and found a stalagmite larger than him--larger than even Dwalin--and pressed his face into it. He closed his eyes and hummed, feeling part of himself settle in contentment. This was what he had been sent for. These rocks, this home.

"Fili?" a whispered voice came from behind him. 

Fili turned reluctantly and scowled. That's right. Gimli. His idiot cousin. He released the rock with one last nuzzle and stormed over to the other dwarf to slam his fist on top of Gimli's head. Helmet or not, it would rattle the idiot's brain.

"Fool!" Fili said in Khuzdul. Gimli had fallen back, sprawled on the water-slick rock. The other Longbeard was staring at him, jaw open in shock, eyes wide."Are you really so eager to get yourself killed that you keep trying to sign up for mindless quests?"

"Y-you!"

"I don't even know what this one is but I know you're out of your mind!" Fili said. He planted his hands on his hips and stared Gimli down. "Rock-brained oaf."

"I'm not sixty-two anymore!" Gimli said, scrambling to his feet. "I'm not some wet-behind-the-ears dwarfling. You can't come back from the dead and tell me what to do!"

Fili stared at him. Yes, he had a point. No, he didn't care. He saw Gimli brace himself, getting ready to start yelling back, and Fili grit his teeth. No. Not a chance. He tackled Gimli, sending them both tumbling to the ground, and they fought. They tumbled about, yanking at hair and beard, war cries tripping off their lips.

Aragorn and Legolas pulled them apart, both straining to keep Gimli and Fili from each other.

"Knock it off!" Aragorn shouted, arms hooked around Fili's shoulders.

"You can't tell me what to do!" Gimli shouted in the Common tongue. "I'm not Kili!"

"I am your elder and your prince!" Fili shouted back. "You will obey me!" He was playing dirty but his ribs hurt and there was blood dripping down his eyebrow and cheek.

Gimli stared at him, hanging from Legolas' arms. For a moment he looked stunned before he saw Fili struggling and started to cry. Legolas set Gimli gingerly down and Fili kicked back at Aragorn to be similarly freed. He stalked over to Gimli and yanked at his beard.

"You idiot," Fili said. He tugged Gimli against him. "You ended up taller than Kili. Still shorter than Dwalin."

Gimli hugged him tight, voice gruff from the tears. "No one's taller than Dwalin."

Aragorn and Legolas were watching them, both tensed to grab at them the moment it looked like they would once more turn to violence.

"How?" Gimli asked, letting go and putting Fili at arms length. "You died. You a-and Kili."

Fili nodded. "We did. Mahal..." He shook his head. "He did something. He's charged us with a task."

"Us?" Legolas asked.

Gimli lit up. "Kili as well?" Fili couldn't help his smile and nod. Gimli breathed a prayer of thanks in Khuzdul. "Where is he?"

Fili sighed, shrugging, and rubbed the back of his neck. "Who knows," he said unhappily. "We were separated." He was going to say more but something caught his attention and he frowned.

"Fili?" Gimli asked. He reached out and grabbed Fili's arm.

There was something there. Fili shook Gimli off and reach out to touch the thick stalagmite that had merged into a thick pillar. There was something trapped in the middle of it, something...

The world began to spin and Fili closed his eyes. He reached into the column and grasped the object in his hand, solid in his grasp, as the world vanished around him.


	5. Chapter 5

Kili spent the days after the battle by exploring Minas Tirith. There wasn’t much for him to do–he wasn’t from this time or place and the upcoming battle held no interest of impact for him–or anyone to talk to. He approved of the Gondorian people, the way they had carved and built their city, and he helped a little with the clean up. Mostly, though, the men underestimated him for his height. One too many times of being shooed away left him washing his hands of the whole matter entirely.

He wandered, mostly, watching and learning. He didn’t know why he was here and why Mahal had not sent him somewhere else. What was he to do? Find the little bits of Mahal’s tears? Would that be it? And why here, why Gondor? This was the land of men, not dwarves.

“You should come with us,” Gimli said from around his pipe later that night. “We’re marching to the door of Sauron himself.”

Kili shook his head, staring down at his borrowed pipe. “I want no part in this war. I fought mine, cousin, and lost. Remember?”

Gimli nodded slowly but sighed, smoke billowing from his nose. “I would have been more comfortable with you at my back.”

“You’ve got the elf,” Kili said. “The two of you seem pretty friendly. I’m sure he’ll protect that broad mountain you call a rear.”

Gimli chuckled and Kili stuck the pipe in his mouth. The two smoked in silence as clouds drifted past them in the sky. Kili watched Gimli out of the corner of his eye, thinking.

“You’re calm,” he said finally.

“You’re not,” Gimli said.

Kili shrugged. “People change. Wars change people. Death changes them further.”

“Never thought it’d make an old man out of you,” Gimli said.

Kili thought for a moment. “An old man? Gimli, hunger made us old when we were young. Don’t you remember traveling from town to town and looking for whatever scraps the men gave us? The scorn and the way they refused to pay fair wages and prices for our goods?”

Gimli billowed smoke from his mouth and nose. “You changed that for our people,” he said. “Erebor changed that. We worked with Bard and the men from Laketown. We had a home, not the hovels we carved out of Ered Luin.”

“Those hovels are all I know,” Kili pointed out. “All I know is greed and hunger and anger. If that makes me a tired and bitter old man, then so be it. But I am tired of hoping.” He couldn’t help the thick feeling in his throat and the chuckle that bubbled up. “Look what that got me. I believed in Thorin’s dream and hoped it was true and it only led us to death.”

“But it saved the rest of us,” Gimli said.

Kili shook his head. “Maybe that’ll help me in the long run, cousin, but now it just makes me sad. I wanted nothing but to walk those halls but I ended up walking different ones.”

Gimli got to his feet, knocking the ember from his pipe. “Maybe you should try walking new ones in this life.”

Kili looked up at him, frowning.

“There are Halls of Healing here,” Gimli said. “Maybe you need to go there.”

=

Kili found himself walking the white, open halls where the sick and wounded lay. There was a cool breeze blowing, bringing with it the smell of smoke and cold. Kili leaned against one of the columns and closed his eyes. If he imagined hard enough, thinking about the sounds of mining, he could almost imagine he was back in Ered Luin and home.

He rubbed his cheeks, dashing away the tears that had leaked out. He was a mess, physically and emotionally, and it seemed like it would be some time before he’d be able to pull himself together.

“It’s Master Kili, is it not?” a man asked from in front of him.

Kili frowned, trying to place him. He was tall, rugged, blond, and lightly bearded. The twinkle in his eye made Kili think of Fili and his heart lurched. “Y-yes, sorry,” Kili said after realizing that he hadn’t replied for a stretch of time. “I am Master Kili.”

“Then welcome,” he said. “I am Faramir, son of Denethor, and I welcome you to Gondor.”

Kili smiled. “Thank you,” he said.

“Were you hurt in the siege?” Faramir asked.

Kili shook his head. “No.”

Faramir looked thoughtful. “Is there someone here you wished to see?”

Kili shook his head again, a tiny smile picking at his lips. “No.” He scratched at his chin and the beard growing in. “My cousin, Gimli, recommended I walk here. The calm is refreshing.”

Faramir nodded with a smile. “Why don’t I show you around? The stones here are really quite beautiful. Some dwarves helped to build Minas Tirith and you might find their work interesting.”

Kili nodded and Faramir led him around. Kili could see on one wall and column stories carved in Khuzdul and masked as decorative runes. He traced his fingers over the carvings, reading and smiling, his fingers trailing over them as they continued to walk.

“My brother, Boromir,” Faramir said softly when they stopped to look out over the city, “loved this vantage point. He liked being able to see our city and what stretched beyond. He was to be Steward before he died.”

Kili nodded slowly. “May he rest in the halls of your fathers,” he said. “I am also a younger brother. How we suffer over idealistic older brothers, hm?”

“You are of the line of Durin, right?” Faramir asked. At Kili’s nod he smiled. “Raised as heir to Erebor he must have had goals that were quite lofty.”

“That’s a mild way of putting it,” Kili muttered although he was smiling.

“And here we are, two little brothers without the other half. How do we ever manage?” Faramir asked. Kili didn’t answer but he did raise an eyebrow. Faramir, though, was watching the horizon and the question seemed to be aimed more at himself.

“Carefully,” Kili said finally. “We carry on carefully, with gusto, with amusement, and whatever grace we manage to have. And then then the elder shows up, rub his face in it.”

Faramir chuckled and tilted his head toward another hall. “Let me introduce you to another little. Only this one is a little sister instead of brother.”

“Lead on,” Kili said with a smile. Little sisters always looked like they would be such fun.   



End file.
